


Inner Demons

by CrazyBeCat



Series: Writer Bingo Challenge Six [23]
Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Mirandy Year of Fun & Frolics, Self-Harm, Viral Plague, Writer Bingo, self-injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 00:28:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16902636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyBeCat/pseuds/CrazyBeCat
Summary: Andy finds herself struggling with inner demons, and finds comfort from Miranda.





	Inner Demons

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT TRIGGER WARNING: CUTTING, THOUGHTS OF SELF-INJURY, DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD.  
> No explicit cutting, but please keep yourself safe if this is something you should avoid read.  
> For Bingo Card One: Viral Plague  
> Priestlys helped me out a bit with it.  
> This is not how every person who has self-injurious thoughts behaves, but it's not untrue of how some experience it.  
> Thank you for reading,  
> CBC

Andy stood in front of the mirror, her body bare, hair wet and plastered across her shoulders.

She stared, her eyes glued to the motion of her fingers in the reflection.

Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.

Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

Her fingers traced the blemishes on her thighs, some fat, some thick, some thin, and some barely there at all.

A reminder.

The marks of her battles.

Andy blinked, and dragged her gaze slowly around the bathroom, before focusing on the razor that was sitting on the bathroom counter.

Her brain was fuzzy with thoughts of what it would feel like to experience it again. Would it release the coiling anxiety in her chest? Would it leave her feeling more empty? Would she feel nothing at all?

She swallowed.

The cruel voices in her head taunted her. Mocking her. Laughing at her. Wouldn’t that be horrific? What a waste it would be, to feel nothing at all. Such a waste to bleed and not feel anything at all: no release, no satisfaction. A waste of time, a waste of energy.

Such a waste of space.

Her skin began to crawl, a deep burning itch that made her fingers shake.

Just once. Would it be that bad, to do it again, just once? To feel the fiery sting, and watch the little red droplets bubble up into fat pearls, and roll down her legs.

She had just showered, it would be so easy to step back in and wash it all away. Forgot to rinse out the conditioner. She’d done that before, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to say she’d done it again.

Would it be so bad?

Was it any different than the nick she got while moving boxes?

A little blood then, a little blood now. What difference did it make?

She reached out and snatched up the razor, her hand squeezing tight around it, her eyes glued to the sharp blades.

She twirled it around a few times, fingers squeezing and releasing, vision blurring as she watched it spin in her grasp.

Just a little blood. How could she not feel anything. Her skin was crawling, and a little blood would let it all out. It would release the plague of demons simmering just below the surface. It would help her breathe a little deeper. Just a little blood, a little blood to release the virus inside her.

She dropped her head, and her arm soon followed. She stared, the blades just inches away. So close. Almost there.

“Andrea, darling.” A knock on the bathroom door startled her, chasing the demons away.

She gasped and threw the razor into the sink, afraid of what she had almost done, afraid that she’d let it get that far.

Andy threw open the door, and threw herself into Miranda’s arms, holding tight and pressing her face into her wife’s shoulder as the other woman jerked in surprise.

“Andrea? What’s wrong?”

Andy shook her head and held on, unable to find her voice, terrified of what had just transpired.

She felt Miranda’s arms wrap around her and sunk into the embrace, feeling tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. “I’m right here,” Miranda whispered into her hair. “I’m here.”

Andy held on tight, letting the words wash over her, and cleared her throat, forcing herself to speak, “I need to see my therapist.”

Miranda’s hands smoothed up and down Andy’s back. “Okay, darling. We can call her in a little bit. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Andy moved her head so her cheek was resting against Miranda’s shoulder and she could talk easier. “Not yet. I, I want to speak with my therapist first.” She felt so small, so out of control, like the world was growing and she was shrinking. “Just hold me, please.”

“I’ve got you. I’m here. Can I help you get some clothes on?”

After a moment, Andy nodded, her cheek rubbing against the soft fabric of Miranda’s blouse, and her breathing finally slowing down.

“Alright, darling. I’ve got you. Let’s get you dressed, and you can come sit with me while I look over the Book.”

Miranda moved slowly and gently, and Andy felt the demons trying to burst the love that was ballooning in her chest. She could feel the sadness trying to spread through her, but she pushed it away, and focused on the care Miranda was showing her, on the love she knew was there.

Miranda loved her. She loved Miranda. And her therapist was going to help her flush the demons away.

“I love you,” she whispered, after Miranda helped pull a comfy shirt over her head.

“I love you, Andrea. Don’t ever forget that. No matter what the demons may say, I love you.”

Andy sniffled, tears spilling down her cheeks and nodded her head, feeling the demons quiet a little. “I love you so much.”

Miranda placed a gentle kiss on her lips, and led her out of the bedroom. “Come sit with me, darling, while I finish my work. You can use my phone to call your therapist.”

Andy followed behind her wife, holding tightly onto her hand, and repeated three little words over and over in her head, drowning out the plague of noises in her head.

_She loves you._

_She loves you._

_She loves you._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you found it interesting.  
> It's a personal subject for me, and I'm grateful to Priestlys for helping me out.  
> Lots of Love,  
> CBC


End file.
